


Sounds of One

by jenovasilver



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Better left unsaid.., Damnit Sherlock!, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Morning Wood, Orgasm, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Texting, Trying to help, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenovasilver/pseuds/jenovasilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspector Lestrade makes a slip of the tongue in front of everyone...which leads to one hell of a time getting off...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sounds of One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettySami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettySami/gifts).



*******

 

“Have you ever loved so deeply that you could only say ‘I love you’ alone, at night…where no one could hear you?” Lestrade said that, he ACTUALLY said that, in front of Donovan, in front Anderson, in front Watson and more importantly…. _in front of Sherlock. _He HOPED that it was barely above a whisper._  
_

Both Donovan and Anderson looked amusedly befuddled, Watson sort of blushed at the question and Sherlock well, he merely blinked…it wasn’t that the question was 'foreign' to him. Just oddly placed in a murder scene…why he thought it was odd opened up a WORLD of possibilities for thought.

Lestrade braced for it, he braced for the acerbic answer to leave Sherlock’s lips..something to ultimately embarrass him in front of his peers but Sherlock said nothing. He refocused on the case at hand and solved it without ever so much as breaking sweat.

Bored but satisfied for the moment, Holmes left the crime scene in a breeze with Watson alongside him. As they blew pass the Inspector, Sherlock paused turned to look at Lestrade, raised his finger, then shook his head with a small grin as he caught up with Watson waiting by a cab. No, Lestrade **caught** that…Sherlock SMILED, it wasn’t a rarity for the Consulting Detective to smile but in lieu of recent events (Watson) and ESPECIALLY recent mistaken utterances, Lestrade knew, he knew Sherlock figured it out.

**Sherlock KNEW the question Lestrade uttered was directed to HIM.  
**   
_Stupid Lestrade…stupid, stupid Lestrade.  
_

 

That was mere hours ago…  
  
The rain began drumming listlessly on the window, the Inspector set to work to boil a pot of tea to sooth his nerves and even contemplated on calling Sherlock to explain himself but he knew that would be pointless and beyond embarrassing.  
  
Lestrade had to shake it off, what was said couldn’t be undone no matter what so there was no point in dwelling on it, he pulled himself up to his sofa and relaxed..he thought about sleeping but knew that he might be called in for a case. He wasn’t trying to dose off, he just felt his eyelids drooping…the events of yesterday being shelved in his memory. Soon he was fast asleep but even in his dreams the Sherlock's smile lingered.

Pale white skin and reddish lips softly stretching into upward curve, it resembled a smirk now that Lestrade thought about it. Coy, knowing…confident and devious, it was almost childish in a way but he loved seeing it. Holmes' voice was deep, smooth…product of his wealthy breeding and education, it was almost like silk even if it was dripping in sarcastic wit..such a voice and face, so uniquely attractive, sleek.

What would those lips feel like? His long fingers almost as if they could wrap around his body, squeezing…pulling….stroking.  
  
Hands between his thighs with fingers just above his zipper pull, Lestrade’s eyes popped open from the shock…he couldn’t believe he was getting hard from the thoughts of Sherlock. No, he needed to stop thinking about that smile so he decided to take a shower...  
  
Showers should be either soothing or refreshing and Lestrade found it neither, 7am and he had a monster case of Morning Wood…nothing seemed to be alleviating the erotic pressure; he literally thought of everything to no avail. This was an ideal situation for a married man but he wasn’t a married man…not anymore and thus spent many nights alone…not for lack of trying.

  
He needed to be at work, Donovan called his phone several times in vain attempts to locate him and all he could respond (in text) was that he was on his way.  
  
 _On his way_ , as soon as he could jerk himself to oblivion and back…  
  
For the sake of contact, Lestrade kept his phone on the sink basin and prayed that it didn’t ring again as he long ran out of excuses and swore the next person who texted him he’ll be completely honest with the reply.  
  
                                                                                                          **TING TING TING**  
  
 **FUCK!**  
  
No, he wasn’t going to answer, not until he was able to jerk himself soft, he rests head on his forearm against the tiles and immediately began to stroke. The lather from his soap made every inch of himself slick, Lestrade could feel himself becoming aroused but it wasn’t enough to get himself off. He had to think of something…then it happened, the door of his flat opened and his heart stopped.  
  
“Uh, h-hello, DI Lestrade? Are you there?” Watson called out, his voice feeling the pangs of guilt for entering a man’s home without permission as he left his umbrella outside the door so he wouldn't track in excess water, “Sherlock, I don’t think he’s-”  
  
“He’s home, his coat is still hanging up unused and he hasn’t his usual breakfast…”  
  
“Perhaps he’s sick then, I could check on him.”  
  
“No no, that wont be necessary…he’s preoccupied.” And Sherlock walks to the bathroom, Watson tries to stop him when Sherlock waved his hand, “Here’s a thought, when he’s done, coffee and tea will be in order.”

“You want me to do it don’t you?”  
  
“See, quick, just as I thought.”  
  
“I’ll ignore that.” Watson sighed and walked out of the flat, leaving Sherlock alone….Lestrade paused in place, he didn’t know what to do.

“Sh-Sherlock!? Are you there!?” Nothing but silence, perhaps they both left the room but still his cock was rock hard, he took a meek breath and started again stroking again…when the familiar ring of a incoming text sounded. Lestrade nearly flung his soaked body out the shower to grab his phone, when he read the text he immediately gloomed.  
  
                                                                                                     **“Need help..?”**  
 **SH**  
  
Now Lestrade could EASILY avoid answering the text….but it was Sherlock, he of ALL people were bound to discover within a few text what was concerning him…so he responded and hoped it would be too innocuous that Sherlock wouldn’t be able to reply back.

 

**“No, fine, thx.”**

**DI**

**“Think of something…soft.”**

**SH  
  
“?”**

**DI**

**“It works for John.”**

**SH**

 

Lestrade dropped the phone then scrambled to retrieve it from getting any water damage, there was NO WAY for Sherlock to know what he was doing in the shower…he just couldn’t.

 

**“Let me talk you through it. It’s natural after all.”**

**SH  
  
“Don’t be absurd..I don’t need help!”**

**DI**

 

“Naturally.” It was like the blood ran cold from Lestrade’s body, Sherlock’s voice rang from behind the bathroom door and penetrated right into Lestrade’s ears nearly making him deaf. “So, let’s see…troubles, hmmm, well normally I let John do all the work, he never really has much difficulty. But when he does, he comes to me. Figuratively speaking...” Lestrade glared his anger and curled into the shower, covering himself.

“G-go away! This private for Pity’s sake!” Lestrade shouted and heard a small chuckle.

“Perhaps it’s your technique…stroking can become rather dull, do be more creative with it.”

“Oh what makes _you_ an expert!?” The tossback of words almost made Lestrade feel dumb, every man should be experts at this...but like with many things he assumed in front of Sherlock, he probably was wrong.

“I’m _quite skilled_ with my hands…” Thank God the bathroom door was shut and no one could see the beet red hue that covered Lestrade’s face, the erection was now at painful levels and the water was growing warm from the extended use. “So shall I walk you through this?”

“I don’t bloody need help to beat off Sherlock! Jesus..” Apparently he did and Sherlock merely hummed a small song, proving how ineffective Lestrade’s spat was.

“Clearly you’re in an upright position resting your head on your forearm as evident by your voice and its echo off the tiles, the water temperature has decreased meaning you’re about to become quite colder the longer this continues. I strongly recommend leaning back or if you prefer lying in the tub, although you could very well leave the shower as there is a sufficient amount of steam in the room and would keep you comfortable for set amount of time. Judging by the length of steam streaming underneath the door, you have about 3 minutes worth of passable warmth left.” Sherlock sighed and begins to text with his back against the bathroom door, “Also, you should lay in the tub with your legs over the sides….it provides better angle for what you're trying to accomplish.”

“I-I..fine…” Lestrade gave up and did as Sherlock instructed, lying in the tub was a little easier then standing up but now with his legs sprawled over the sides, he couldn’t help but feel a little more lewd like this. “S-Sherlock…I..appreciate your-”

“Now start from the base and stroke upward, pay attention to the Dorsal vein…move slowly, squeezing and pulling…make sure your fingers tap every second stroke or two.” Lestrade coughed and followed the instructions, this was unusually good…Lestrade normally just stroked and tugged to release but this slower approach made things MUCH more sensual.

“I-I…this is…”

“Good, well, carry on then.”

“W-wait!”

“Hmm? What?”

“C-continue…”

“I thought that what I said would be enough.”

“I-It is…but…t-tell me what you do…how do you...?” Lestrade asked shyly, his voice hitched through the timed strokes, he didn’t want to say anything else to reveal what he REALLY wanted. The rhythmic stroking was doing the trick but it was Sherlock’s voice that was really helping, Lestrade had to keep Sherlock talking and hoped that he wasn’t giving too much away. But there was silence and Lestrade thought that maybe he offended Holmes, something that seemed impossible unless you knew the right buttons to push. That’s when the door opened and Sherlock walked inside, Lestrade quickly brought his legs back into the tub and covered himself, “S-Sh-Sherlock!?! What the bloody hell are you doing!?”

“I figured this approach would be more beneficial, besides speaking through the door became boring..” Sherlock said with zero change in his expression and hung his coat on the basin, he leaned back then folded his arms and tilted his head in a knowing way, “Your legs are particularly smooth, do you shave them often?”

“What?! No!? Sherlock, really this is enough..*sigh* I’ll never live this down.”

“Really? You think that I will use this against you at a later date? Come now, I wouldn’t do anything so droll. What would I get out of it outside of the satisfaction of this moment…actually, this could serve as an experiment. John makes an interesting face when he climaxes…”

“Sherlock! You can’t…I mean…”

“Again, keep your legs sprawled over the sides, would it be advantageous if I was closer?” Sherlock walked over with a focused glare in his eyes, they were penetrating right through Lestrade’s body and he gulped his fear down as he stared up at the detective. He stood over Lestrade in the tub and knelt inside just a bit , Lestrade could smell his light fragrance and drifted back, “Now, listen to me, each stroke and pull should be timed to your pleasure…if either motion elicits the desired effect continue at the same speed.”

Lestrade closed his eyes and returned to his efforts, just like Sherlock said the small dribble of precum began to bubble up from the tip and made his cock slippery. It wasn’t enough but the slow release was welcoming and Lestrade growled meekly, he wanted to hear more of Sherlock’s directions.

“Your grip must be quite slippery now because of the precum and the soap, tell me…what does it feel like to you?”

“Prickling…b-becoming…h-harder to-”

“Switch hands and this time stroke with a little more vigor, with your free hand explore your body, the heat in your chest should be crawling up your neck..right?”

“Y-yes…” Lestrade stammered, he’s never felt this way masturbating before..perhaps this was because he was being watched, “I…G-god…”

“Look at me Lestrade.” Lestrade peeked through his lashes at Sherlock’s inquisitive face, he REALLY was drinking in this vulgar display...how gorgeous he was, his black curly hair nearly draped over his eyes but he could still see the pale gray of his eyes. The familiar twitching inched down his spine and traveled to his sacks, he kept looking at Sherlock as he thankfully felt his coming orgasm. “Pinch the tip, don’t come just yet.”

“W-what!? B-but!?”

“Pinch the tip and slide your pointer finger around the head…stretch the slit and use the remaining fingers to massage the vein.” Lestrade was nearly crying at this point, his body was about burst but the feeling was so intense he knew that his orgasm will shatter his senses. He stretched out his toes and jerked his legs against the sides, Sherlock moved so he wouldn’t be hit by the limbs, “Tell me, what does it feel like at this moment?”

“G-god Hol-mes…I…want…” Sherlock leaned in as Lestrade closed his eyes, he felt the tickling of his warm breath against his ear.

“What does it feel like?”

“I’m going…I’m going..to…”

“Lestrade.” Sherlock cooed, his lips barely touching Lestrade’s earlobe, “Come.” And he removed his fingers off his tip to shoot out his load, it gush out such a flow that it nearly got on Sherlock. Lestrade’s body ceased up as he sputtered the remnants out in a white trickle of stickiness that left him completely spent. “Interesting…perhaps next time we’ll add prostate massaging.” Sherlock nodded and rose from the tub to retrieve his coat, just as the front door opened.

“’We’ll’…S-sherlock…”

“Oh don’t worry if you can’t fully grasp it.” Sherlock said with a grin, “I’ll be there to talk you through it.” And he closes the bathroom door.

 

**END**


End file.
